


The Lady of Rin

by Lunarium



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dwarf History & Lore, F/F, Textual Ghosts, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-18 20:17:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5941732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The tale of Rin, the mother of the Longbeards, and the lady forged by her own hands who had come to love her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lady of Rin

**Author's Note:**

> For Elleth, with much love. You said, “surprise me,” and my mind went in this direction. I wanted to explore a most rare Silmarillion pairing as well as the most infuriating textual ghost, that being a female character who has twinkled in and out of existence from Tolkien’s notes: the elusive mother of the Longbeards. Of course, I could not resist pairing her with a lady dwarf, or what could be considered a dwarf in this tale! I enjoyed playing with the origins and explanation for Rin’s existence, as well as why dwarves often talk about the “Fathers” of the dwarves but no “Mothers.” Really hope you enjoy this! :) 
> 
> All my love to you! ♥ ♥ ♥
> 
> Many thanks to my beta reader Sigridhr! ♥ :)

It was said by the dwarves that when Aulë was ordered to put the seven fathers to rest, he first made for them wives, and six of the seven men were laid beside the one to become his wife. But one was laid alone in a vast mountain range, and his name was Du. 

When Du awoke, alone but with distant memory of others like himself, he desired companionship, and reaching in the dark, he gripped for the stones and fashioned himself tools with which he then sculpted a statue. It stood a head taller than himself but appeared as he remembered his companions to be. Long was the beard and the eyes piercing, but there was a fairer form to the figure, as the hands of Du was kinder on stone than the hands of Mahal had been in his haste to create life. Du took his time, falling ever deeper in love with his creation, till his heart ached with yearning. 

And hearing the ache in Du’s heart, Eru brought life upon the statue, and the stone softened into flesh, and the wife of Du drew breath and awoke. Rin she was named, and delighted at seeing his companion speak and return his words with equal affection, Du made for her a necklace of the gems glittering at the surface of the cavern rocks, and there they resided for a time. And so Du became known as the father of the Longbeards and Rin as the mother, but collectively, for they were counted as one in the common tongue, they were known as Durin, the Father of the Longbeards and indeed all of the Khazâd.

Together they ventured south of the mountains, giving names of the hills and dells, from Azanulbizar to Kheled-zâram. Though they journeyed out of the mountains on several occasions, they mainly kept to within, especially upon sensing the hostility of the world beyond as sharp cries of foes unseen and anguished howls of victims haunted the empty dark skies. Down in the mountains were seldom foes, and any that slipped through met an early doom, for both Du and Rin had fashioned axes that could cleanly hew through skulls. 

Yet despite the companionship with Rin, Du still wondered after the whereabouts of the companions who had woken with him many years ago, when they had one father who taught them words and care, and who had raised his hand reluctantly to end them at the commandment of the One. With nothing else to tie him to the others but memories, he suffered in his yearning for his old friends. But being of the earth in body, Rin could sense the presence of the other Khazâd treading in the far reaches of distance mountains, and she offered to seek them and bring them to Du. At seeing Du’s face break into a sign of gratitude, she returned his smile, bowed, and left for her journey.

Rin went alone, trusting her quest would be quicker with only herself, to navigate the ground with her own feet without the interruption of dwarven boots disturbing the vibrations. But soon the road grew black and narrow, having reached the very end of the tunnels she and Du had dug out. She needed to burrow new paths herself, but the longer this went on, the more she tired until at last she stopped and settled by a boulder to regain her strength. 

“Stone contending against stone! This will not do!” she said, and sighed. 

As she studied the cuts and bruises of her fingers, she recalled the manner in which Du had fashioned her body. Then rubbing roughly against chafed skin until it was returned to its original form of stone dust, she took the powder and smeared it over the surface of a smooth rock and smiled. She began her work. 

The Khazâd which she sculpted was smaller in form than herself and Du, and though bearded herself, she appeared young and frail, but fair and strangely ethereal. Rin’s heart warmed and blossomed with love with each sweep of expert hands over the form, cupping the statue’s cheeks and caressing the wavy lines of her hair down to her wispy beard. 

“Would that you could walk with me,” she breathed against the stone’s fair ear. “Be my companion as I was to Du.” It was then she saw light in the statue’s eye, and she held her breath, hoping for the statue to speak to her. But the light flickered out, and a moment later Rin realized the light was not coming from within the statue, but it was light from elsewhere reflecting off the surface. 

She traced the beam and took note of a crack above where a tiny mouth opened from the mountain. Snow glistened at the tip, and light provided from some bright stars far above, so far that the tiniest bird passing by would cloud over the light. 

But Rin was more interested in the snow. Scooping a handful, she waited until the snow melted into a small puddle in her palm, then she brought it to the sculpture’s lips. 

“Drink, beloved,” she said. 

Light sparked in the stone eyes as the snowmelt touched the carved curve of lips, and the head bowed and drank the queen’s offering. And when all the water had been drunk, the Khazâd kissed the palm of Rin’s hand and got down on one knee to declare her loyalty to the queen. 

Rin called forth a name, and the head rose up to meet her eyes, and that was the first time the Lady of Rin beheld the mother of the Longbeards.

*

Rin had given her creation the name of Rindis, the lady of Rin, for she was her personal servant, and from then on Rindis was ever by her side. They continued on the quest under the mountain range to find the companions of Du, and the journey was far more fruitful and eventful, for Rin was no longer alone, and she had another who could read the vibrations of the earth as well as she. And she had comfort, in the odd times when they ventured away from the mountain and were right below the ground, and could sometimes hear a passing group of people, very different from them, with strange songs that sounded like starlight which made the hair on their arms rise. Or sometimes they heard a stampede of feet and growls and voices dripping with malice, and they readied their weapons lest the foe sniffed them out.

But with Rindis, Rin was no longer afraid. 

Rindis’s opinions were ones Rin always trusted when she was unsure of which direction to turn, and it was not long before they crossed paths with the first of the companions, Lin and Nar, the mother and father of the Broadbeams. 

After a meeting and resting with them, Lin and Nar took them to meet Ú and Ri, the father and mother of the Firebeards for the two pairs had woken close to one another, and after telling their tale of Du and his loneliness in the far northern mountains, the other four dwarves recounted names of others they had encountered, though briefly, and joined them in their quest to find them. 

It seemed like an eternity to Du, but at last one day he was woken out of his slumber by a stomping of many feet and firelight cast into the large dome of Gundabad that was his home, and Rin appeared with Lin and Nar, Ú and Ri, Sin and Dri of the Ironfirts, Bá and Vor of the Stiffbeards, Drú and Úin of the Blacklocks, and Vig and Dís of the Stonefoots. 

Soon the halls were filled with the many jovial voices of the dwarves as the mountain became alive, the first city of the dwarves alit and joined and was named Khazâd-dûm, held by an ancient memory of solidarity and friendship. Gifts were made and exchanged to Du, who had in turn revealed he had made gifts for each of the companions during the time that Rin had been gone. He had not forgotten the wives, perhaps by perceiving them in dreams during Rin’s journey, for he had made for each House of the dwarves two presents, one for his companion and for his wife, and Du had received two in return. 

He had not counted on meeting Rindis, and he listened, amazed and intrigued, by Rin who spoke of her servant’s creation with utmost affection. After a night’s rest, they were woken to the finest fair ornament that glittered like jewels, which Rindis thereafter wore on her beard. 

For years the dwarves lived in the Misty Mountains, and during that time came many tales. But shortly after their arrival, Rindis feared she would be no longer needed by her queen, for she had served her purpose in leading her to the dwarves and back home, and in being made of purely stone she was least like the Khazâd. She loved most Rin, for she was her maker, and would return to stone if commanded to, but the thought also pained her, and the love was the source of a worse pain in knowing her queen had a role, for she was begetting children to fill the House of Longbeards, while her servant stood and watched silently for the day when she would be dismissed. 

At last, when the grief grew too great, Rindis confessed her fear to the queen, but Rin laughed gently, her voice echoing in the wide cavern halls and easing some of the tension inside Rindis. 

“I assure you, I will forever need you beside me,” Rin said. “I have loved you throughout your creation.” 

Her eyes shone with affection that assured Rindis of her queen’s words and promise, and she returned her queen’s smile as understanding passed between them. As if to make her words clearer, Rin swept over and planted a kiss on her servant’s brow, lingering just a moment too long to be considered chaste. 

And so Rindis remained where she was happiest: beside the queen Rin, mother of the Longbeards, watching as the dwarves grew in numbers. She learned and mastered the tongue of the Khazâd and gathered knowledge of their growing customs, for it varied from land to land in the short time spent apart from their brothers and sisters. Though they had no true writing system then, Rindis developed a sort of record-keeping system involving indentations in stone walls, and due to that she earned another name: _Fakhîm_ , the scholar of the Khazâd, and thereafter became known mainly by that name. 

The other dwarves were kind to her, though regarded her strangely for she was a boulder-daughter and not made by Aulë’s hand or born to another dwarf. But they did not discount her among their own, merely intrigued by her very existence, and after learning the birth of the Longbeard Queen, they loved Fakhîm all the more. She was frequently called to counsel on some matter, for she had a detached view of the dwarven dealings and could give better advice than if she were among them. She set up marriages between Houses, so that no line would die out, but continue, though in the end it was said every dwarf was descended from all seven Fathers. And to the dwarves in turn she taught her methods of record-keeping, so they may take the knowledge when them when they did part ways again, for the seven Houses were not meant to remain together forever under the mountain. The _Cirth_ , created by an elf from the western lands named Daeron, had reached her and been adopted by the dwarves; though she had regarded it suspiciously at first, she appreciated it the more she grew familiar with them. But her old methods were also not one she would see die out. 

And to Rin she was called to frequently, for companionship and for love, for at times they felt like two pieces of the earth watching beings like and unlike themselves hewing their shared mother with greater axes and forging new weapons and greater jewelry. The deeper they dug, the more mixed they became in how they felt, as though feeling a piece of their own bodies ripped at seeing the earth opened. 

“I suppose we must accept that is their purpose in life,” Rin said one time when the matter had been brought forth again. They studied the glittering sheen of rubies on the surface of an upturned rock, soon to be cut and dissolved down until the gems are freed from stone, and the dust scattered away, forgotten. Sighing, Rin turned to Kheled-zâram, finding solace in the surface. 

“We now have many children,” Rin said to Fakhîm, “and children of their children, and many generations since. But Du grows very old and weak. Not even his sons and daughters—or indeed, any of his descendants—have ever reached his age, and his old companions have all passed on. He too feels his end is near.” 

Fakhîm considered her queen’s words for a few moments. 

“And what becomes of you, my lady?” she finally asked. 

“I am tied to Du, for we are Durin,” Rin said. “Though I cannot die, I will return to my original form. I will sleep next to him.” 

When she turned back to smile at Fakhîm, it was to find her companion and servant unable to return it. 

“It will not be forever,” Rin assured her. “Du foresees a time he will return. In what manner, I cannot say. Perhaps he will grow young again in his grave and rise, or he will be reborn to a descendant’s house. But when he returns, so shall I awake from my slumber.” 

“And what do you request of me to do in that time?” 

“Remain with the Khazâd. Advise them. Be among them. And seek me when we return.” 

She met Fakhîm’s lips for a kiss before leading her to the room which would become her and Du’s grave, and true as ever, Fakhîm immediately set to work on a most magnificent tomb for the father of the Longbeards. When his time had come, Du rested, sighing contently as if returning to bed after a long strenuous day of working in the mines, and there he laid as if in tranquil slumber. 

Rin too, standing before the tomb in watch over her husband, bowed her head, and her body froze into stone. 

Unashamedly Fakhîm wept beside her queen for three days and three nights, encircled by the mourners of Durin, before leaving the tomb to rejoin the other dwarves. She made for the utmost peak of the mountains, from which she then sat in reverie. It was the First Age, the sun hot against her neck. Far in the west raged a war of which she had only heard snippets of news, of Firebeards locked in battles with elves living in caves of ridiculous splendor, of strife among dwarves as a few of their number were ostracized and declared _petty-dwarves_ , all the while a common northern enemy ever grew in strength, his terrible terror spreading west and east and south. Feeling suddenly incredibly small without Rin beside her, Fakhîm could do only what was requested of her by her beloved and queen, and continue her work with the dwarves. 

She was alone for a hundred years, but it felt like an eternity. Near the end of the age, as the war raged into a clamor that caused her to worry for the safety of her people, for word spread that a whole army of Firebeards had been wiped out (indeed, some believed all the Firebeards to be gone), there came one day a cry as the Longbeard queen had given birth to her child, and it was said the mother, the king, and all who were with them had heard the child’s voice in their minds, _Let the Longbeards’ fear no more, for Durin has come._

Learning of the words, Fakhîm rushed to the tombs, to where Rin still stood as stone. For a moment she had thought it was all but rumor to lighten the hearts of the dwarves during the dark time, but seeing her lady’s face, she was overcome with emotion and inched closer for a kiss. Cold stone turned soft and warm, and the Lady Rin was kissing her in return, throwing out her hands to welcome Fakhîm back in her arms. 

Together they served Durin II from the moment he was aware enough to understand he was the heir to throne. His childhood was filled with stories they told of his previous life, which he seemed only to remember as pleasant dreams. He seemed both like Du and unlike him, but the companion of his previous life and her lady were a constant presence in his life. When he was old enough to wed, he took another for a wife, for Rin was not obliged to serve him in this manner, though in seeing her former queen’s longing for intimacy encouraged Fakhîm to seek a means to bring joy about from Rin. In her arms, Fakhîm filled Rin with tales of all that went on while she was asleep with such detail that she could see the lights twinkle in Rin’s eyes as images formed in her mind. 

Durin II led his people well during to the beginning of the Second Age, where he began a confederation with the Men of the Vales of Anduin which carried on for centuries to come; but Durin II grew too fast, and two hundred and fifty years after his birth he too desired to lie down once more, and again Rin bowed her head over his tomb and froze, and again Fakhîm bid her queen goodbye and wept before returning to her people. 

It was not until over a thousand years later when Durin III was born and when Fakhîm could hold Rin in her arms again. The Second Age had been changing as not just Men but also elves had grown an interest with the dwarves, and it was during Durin III’s reign when the West-gate into Moria was built. Rin and Fakhîm were among those to build it, rubbing their fingers till powder from their body smeared and blessed the doors for the two rare friends. That same night Fakhîm saw Lord Celebrimbor present King Durin III a ring, but thought nothing of it, only that it passed from father to son thereafter. She only worried when Durin III felt the whispers of death near and called for her to make his tomb. 

It was not for another thousand years until Durin IV was born, and shortly after Durin V’s birth, Fakhîm awoke Rin with tears streaming down to her lips. 

“Sauron’s War tears through the world,” she said, “and Durin is so young. A land far to the west that sat on water has sunk, they say, by Sauron’s evil. He takes allies wherever he can find them. The dwarven king is old, my lady! We did not think he would beget any children, and then—” 

“Then we have much to teach Durin, once he can walk and hold a spoon properly,” Rin said, smiling encouragingly at her. 

And when the day had come for war, and the Last Alliance had been formed, Rin and Fakhîm joined Durin V among his army. With the great victory, Rin and Fakhîm fell into greater delight in one another’s arms in celebration, and Durin V glowed with pride in his own role in the battle. It followed him to his grave, and when Durin VI was born, a bit of arrogance could be seen still twinkling in the young dwarf’s eyes. 

Of all the reincarnations, Durin VI had proven to be the biggest trouble, so arrogant was he that often Fakhîm found Rin close to tears, though she would not say further what bothered her. Some uncertain dread had filled her, and no matter how much Fakhîm kissed her, held her, loved her tenderly in their time alone, still Rin would not speak of what troubled her mind. 

One night, she whispered in Fakhîm’s ear, “It is merely that I find no word to describe this dark shadow, but it is coming.” 

Then when the dwarves had found a rich stock of mithril deep within Moria, Durin VI called for them to dig more, dig deeper, that even a shadow crossed over Fakhîm’s thoughts and froze her on the spot before the wretched beast from the bowels of Moria had made itself known. 

She hurried to find Rin, pushing her to escape with her, but there was a roar behind them and both spun around in time to see the beast strike Durin VI down. The dwarven king fell and did not move. Suddenly Rin gave a pained gasp and collapsed beside Fakhîm, and when Fakhîm got to her knees, calling for her lover to rise, it was only to touch stone. Rin lay like a piece of pillar, expertly sculpted, her face fair and frozen in mild shock, and did not rise no matter how much Fakhîm called out for her. 

“Lady Fakhîm, please!” Fakhîm felt Thráin grab her shoulder and pull her away from Rin, and Fakhîm’s cry was drowned by the beast’s roar and the cries of thousands of dwarves stampeding out of the mountain. She struggled against his hold, but he held on tight in terror and stubbornness lest she was next struck. 

“We cannot go back inside!” someone said when Thráin rested Fakhîm on the grass outside. 

“Náin would not give up this easily!” another said. 

“Durin’s Bane, you have taken my love!” Fakhîm wept into her hands, afraid to ask how many more had been lost. “Do not let the fire burn the stones near the gates!” 

Understanding her meaning, a few of the dwarves nodded their heads before rushing towards Náin. 

Náin indeed had sought to regain the mountain from Durin’s Bane, but in less than a year had too been slain. It was impossible to enter, impossible to come anywhere close to Rin’s body, and the thought of leaving her there drove Fakhîm mad. But she remained with her people, for it would be what Lady Rin would have wanted, seeking whatever normalcy she could to keep herself stable. They traveled far to the east, where Thráin established a new home for them in Erebor, and they were well for a time before new enemies arose. 

And Fakhîm watched, and was part, of every excruciating step of the dwarves’ suffering affected by Durin VI’s arrogance. She watched as the dragon Smaug swept down and attacked the dwarves home, walked the roads with her people as they struggled for some work for want of food or medicine or proper clothing. She helped them establish a new home in the Blue Mountains, where the Broadbeams and Firebeards had accepted them there, and she had fought in the Battle of Azanulbizar, their bitter victory more foul than any defeat. She could barely make it to the gates where she could peek inside to just glimpse Rin. That night she wished she took could return to the earth and never awaken among the dwarves again. 

But her duty was to remain beside them. Though she had no role in Thorin’s Company, for he had chosen a small handful for his task, she was among the first group to migrate back into their home, happy to see some true victory for her people at last. 

Yet there did not seem to be much chance of happiness for herself, for though a party had gone to reclaim Moria and had reported to have won, no sooner had Fakhîm begun to prepare for the journey back when she heard news of their deaths, and of Durin’s Bane’s return. And war was growing great again. 

The third time Fakhîm joined battle, she had hoped it would be her last, but she lived on to see the end of the Third Age, rejoicing in the destruction of the One Ring, and of Middle-earth growing fair once more.

But fair and green was not what Fakhîm loved or wanted. She waited for the birth of Durin VII, but stopping to count the days since Durin VI’s death, she feared it would never come. 

The Fourth Age proceeded on. While no dwarf lived with any worry in their hearts or minds, Fakhîm slipped out of the mountains and settled out a little away where she could watch the winter morning. She wept. The dominion of men was spreading, the elves were leaving Middle-earth, and the dwarves were dwindling down. She could almost again remember a time when she could lose track of the dwarves around her, but now it was like being back to the first dwarven city, where all the names of the dwarves were known to her. 

And still she did not see Rin. Raising her eyes to the snow-topped evergreens, she wondered if she would behold them again. Her heart was collapsing at the thought of never seeing them again, though she could not place why. The past thousand years had been dreadful. The last hundred had been peaceful. The sight before she should not be cause for grief. 

Out here, in this state, she had missed the birth of the child of the Longbeard king and queen, and the commotion which ran through Erebor, troubled as she was sitting out here studying the snow melting before her eyes and remembering the first taste of life offered by her lover’s sweet hand. 

A hand rested on her shoulder. “Fakhîm! You have missed coming to me!” 

Her jaw hung open; Fakhîm could not fathom what to say. She did not dare look back, but finally she closed her eyes, and opened them again and glanced back. Rin smiled.

“How did you get here? Moria is so far away.” 

“I am of earth, love.” 

“Durin VII was born, then?” 

“And he seems far more humble than he was before,” Rin said, smiling. “I have a good feeling about this reign.” 

Fakhîm smiled. “I was so worried. I never wish to lose you again.” 

“You will not have to fear that. This is Durin’s seventh time in this life. After this, he passes on to the Halls where he will remain there until the Second Music.” 

The small smile on Fakhîm’s face faded. “And what happens to you?” 

Rin laughed. “The very best! I am free now! As I have been since his second life, but no longer will I be required to return to stone when he dies. I—and we—have served him as councilors for every lifetime. After this, our story goes on. This was only our beginning. We can walk this world anywhere, join the other dwarves, continue impacting the history of this world until its end.”

Her heart far lighter than it was moments before, Fakhîm took Rin’s offered hand and stood up, linking their arms together as they made for Erebor. 

“Tell me, Fakhîm, what has happened with the Longbeards since our last parting?” 

Fakhîm couldn’t help the laugh. “Plenty.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve played around with the idea that Durin, especially the original Durin as the _Father_ , never actually referred to one individual but both the father and mother of the Longbeards. They were counted as one being when spoken of publicly to non-dwarves, probably since dwarf women were so seldom spoken of outside of the mountain. The same was done for the other dwarven Houses, so Lin and Nar are collectively known as Linnar, and so on.
> 
> The story of Du creating and falling in love with Rin is based on the myth of Galatea and Pygmalion, one of my all-time favorite stories. :) It perhaps also explains why so many dwarves love their craftwork over other dwarves! 
> 
> Fakhîm is based on the Arabic name of Fahim, which means “the scholar, the intelligent.”


End file.
